


Daddy

by Batsybaby



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: I've been watching too much Batdad, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsybaby/pseuds/Batsybaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Talia Al Ghul leaves their son on Bruce's doorstep. Eventual Batjokes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this chapter is pretty short, but they are going to get longer.

It had been a mistake from the start. The late nights, shrouded in darkness. Her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. It would never last. She would never give up her father's legacy, his dream. And he would never give up his belief in justice, not even for her.  
  
But Bruce had still loved her with all he had, with the last sharded remnants he had to offer. And when she vanished one night from his arms, leaving no sign she had ever been there at all, he had allowed himself to weep as the last shard dissipated.

\------

He had not been expecting the door to ring. There were no parties planned for that night, no visitors expected, and it was rare for people to drop by without warning save for perhaps Lucius. Bruce had paid no mind to it, allowing Alfred to answer as he continued to hammer away at the bat computer. Things had been too quiet lately, too calm. That was always unsettling.  
  
“Master Bruce! I think you'd best come here at once!”  
  
The confused and frantic tone in his father figures voice had him standing and running, fearing the worst in that moment.  
  
None of it held up to what he found. There, lying cozily in Alfred's arms was a baby, raven hair and ice blue eyes so alike Bruce's own had been as an infant. He was swaddled carefully in a blanket, a note in Alfred's hand.  
  
_‘My darling Bruce,_  
I had never planned on seeing you again, but it seems that it is necessary. This is Damian Wayne-Al Ghul. Your son. Our son. I know he is safer with you.  
Talia’  
  
Bruce was left speechless. He read the note once, then again, a sigh falling from his lips as large hands pushed through his hair before taking the child into his arms. Shit. He had no idea how to care for a child.  
  
Gurgling happily up at his father, the infants small fingers wrapped around one of Bruce's own, drawing it towards his mouth and sucking at it happily, a reluctant smile tugging at the billionaire's lips.  
  
“Alfred, will you please-”  
  
“I'll fetch your old cradle from the attic, sir, and bring it to your room. Tomorrow I'll teach you how to care for infants.”  
  
Giving a nod, Bruce let the door close behind them, shifting Damian closer. It was going to be a long night.


	2. Chapter 2

Bruce was exhausted. The past three weeks had taken a lot out of him, and understandably so. Between trying to learn how to take care of Damian while trying to balance out his responsibilities as Batman and as CEO of Wayne Enterprises, he was spent. Never had he imagined just how much work it would be to care for a child- hell, he took care of all of Gotham, he'd been so certain he could handle one small infant.  
But every time Damian cried, Bruce's mind was filled with doubts. Even now, as he gingerly rocked the child in his arms, large fingers caressing small raven locks, humming a soft lullaby. A sigh of relief escaped him as Damian's eyes drifted shut, the child falling to sleep in the safety of his father's arms. _Finally._   
Rubbing at tired eyes, Bruce lay his son in his crib and padded back to his own room. Curling under his covers, the billionaire happily let sleep overtake him.

\----

Getting inside was far too easy, but then, it always was. From the first time the Joker had jimmied one of the large manor windows open almost a year prior, he'd been surprised by the lack of security. Stifling a giggle, the emerald haired man slipped through his normal entrance, footsteps silent on the cool hardwood as he wandered the halls he was so familiar with.  
His precious Batsy never knew he was there. It was a small blessing that the Joker found himself thankful for, time and time again. He doubted the bat even knew he'd figured that pesky secret identity out. That was what allowed him these visits.  
The Joker did it often enough, particularly after a bad fight. He would drag himself carefully into Wayne manor, padding down the halls until he reached a familiar door and pushed it open. The clown was oh so careful not to wake his nemesis as he sat on the edge of the bed, fingers gently raking through ebony locks. His lips would brush each bandage; his head lay itself on Bruce's chest to revel in the steady heartbeat and know their game hasn't gone too far.  
As though he'd ever truly want to cause real damage to his darling enemy.   
Tonight was different. There had been no fight; perhaps if there had been the solid lump of anxiety that sat in the Joker's stomach would be absent. In fact he hadn't seen the vigilante in weeks. Their hadn't even been a peep of Bruce Wayne in the papers lately. It was too quiet. He was beginning to grow concerned that his beloved bat had been injured.   
He'd peeked into the younger man's room, content to find Bruce sleeping soundly in his bed. Thank God. A smile tugged at his lips, genuine and relieved as he settled into the bed, fingers reaching out to stroke through those silky locks...  
A sharp, shrill cry pierced the air, green eyes darting up towards the closed door as the clown forced himself to his feet with a huff, heading towards the noise. Dammit, what was that? It was going to wake Bruce up, and even at a glance, the Joker could tell the billionaire had been sleeping even less. Finally, he reached the source of the sound, pushing the door open with an irritated mutter.  
Just to be faced with a small infant laying in a crib in the middle of an overdone nursery, wailing as though his life were at stake.  
The man blinked first once, then again, stunned silence washing over him. Well. It seemed his Batsy had been busy. He was surprised he hadn't heard a word in the media about this little bundle yet, shaking the jealous thoughts from his head as he made his way towards the crib. It was no matter who the mother was, he decided, carefully picking the infant up and cradling him close. Obviously she wasn't around, and he could be the boy's mother just as easily!  
“Now, now…” He cooed softly, one finger gently stroking chubby cheeks. “Shhh, mommys here. You have to calm, or you'll wake daddy. We don't want a grumpy Batsy, now do we, honey?” It wasn't as though he particularly liked children all that much; he'd never imagined himself a parent- but this was his darling Batman's child, and with that knowledge came a surge of possessive protectiveness. Green eyes flitted around the room, spotting the child's name in blocked letters on the wall before turning his attention to the infant, a smile growing on his lips.   
“You look so much like your pretty daddy, Dami.” He told him, tickling Damian's cheek with a little laugh, pleased when Damian's cries ceased, small fingers curling around the Jokers. From the soft hair on his head to those piercing blue eyes, Damian truly was the spitting image of his father. Already the clown adored him, even knowing how angry Bruce would be if he found out the man had been near his child.  
It was all for Bruce, he told himself. If he could keep the tyke quiet and cared for at night, his darling would at least be able to sleep. Those dark bags around his eyes truly didn't suit him. Settling back in the rocking chair that rested near the crib, the Joker shifted the infant all the closer, humming until the boy fell asleep.  
Yes, he imagined this would work quite well. This boy would be _theirs_ , and them a family, even if Batsy never knew. Joker would know, and that was more than enough for him. He sat with the baby for what felt like hours, emerald eyes taking in every detail of the room as he continued to hum. Overdone was an understatement. He could almost imagine it as a baby batcave for all the expensive gadgets he doubted the boy needed. Stifling a laugh, the smile on his lips grew. It was so very _Bruce_ that it was endearing. Precious even. The Joker would have loved to see his nemesis’ face when he found the infant, to see him so flustered and scrambled in learning to care for him.  
Pausing momentarily, the green haired man licked his lips before laying Damian back in his crib. Tomorrow he'd have to bring something special.


	3. Chapter 3

Today was the day the world would find out what had been going on. He’d avoided the public, the media, for as long as he could, going out only for meetings with the board, but it was impossible to hide it any longer. Not that he wanted to hide his son in the first place. No, he’d just wanted some time to adjust, to get used to having the infant in his care before he allowed others to know about the boy, to invade their world. Even now, he was hesitant. Not because of the rumours that would fly, oh no, he could handle those. No, he was concerned that those who were bitter against him would use Damian as leverage against him. Even still, he forced himself to prepare for the Gala, tuxedo crisp and proper, hair left down and slightly dishevelled, but attractive none the less.   
“Sir, I dare say you ought to be happy.” Alfred mused, a wry smile tugging at his lips as he gently bounced the infant in his arms, waiting for his master to finish before handing Damian back over, proud eyes watching as Bruce carefully cradled the boy to his chest, a skill he’d worked hard to learn this past month. “Young master Damian gives you quite the good escape from this event if you need it, doesn’t he? Besides, the press will love him. Every one will. You do make quite the charming father, master Bruce. Really, you mustn't fret so much.”  
“I suppose you’re right.” Bruce agreed with a sigh, laying the infant on the bed carefully, changing his diaper and dressing him in an emerald green onesie, before scooping him back up. “I’m being pretty silly, aren’t I? And I have been pretty lucky, it’s amazing how well he has been sleeping lately. I guess I’m just… worried… that they’ll ask about his mother. Who she is. Where she is. Or that they’ll say I just knocked up some bimbo and got stuck with the kid.” His eyes narrowed. “Which isn’t the case. I loved her. I swear that Alfred, I wanted to be with her, right or wrong, and damned the consequences. I would have given up everything for her, even being Batman.”  
“I know you did, sir.” Alfred’s face softened, as he gently patted the billionaire’s back. “And you know it. So what does it matter what anyone else thinks?”  
Alfred was right. He knew that, as he knew Alfred always was. And yet, he still couldn’t quell the bundle of nerves settling in his stomach as he shifted his son closer, burying his face for a moment in dark curls and taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Alright… I suppose it won’t be too long before he starts fussing anyhow.”

\----

This place was far too loud for his liking. Not that the Joker had ever been particularly fond of Gotham’s elites parties, save for crashing them, but this one in particular…  
It had his ears buzzing in the most unpleasant way, overwhelming his senses all at once. He was acutely aware of the prosthetics on his face, of the itchy adhesive that held them in place, but he didn’t dare touch it and risk smudging the makeup that hid his pale complexion, or revealing the scars beneath the prosthetics. No, tonight he was here not as himself, but as a mystery, much like his darling Batsy was. He was here to observe. Idly fingers, bored and twitchy, fidgeted with the hem of his gold vest, trying to keep himself occupied until-  
The murmuring began. Hushed and judgemental, God, this was the main reason he hated high society. Emerald eyes lifted, a smile tugging at his lips as he finally spotted the object of his affection descending the staircase, soft raven curls peeking out from behind Bruce’s arms. Ahh, how darling his little Dami looked tonight in that onesie! He ached to move forward, to hold the child and kiss the father- but he knew he couldn’t. Taking a quiet breath, he allowed himself one little step forward to get a better look, his breath catching in his throat. God, how did Bruce always manage to look so handsome out of the batsuit? Not that he wasn’t in it too. Letting his smile grow, the criminal allowed himself to relax, fingers running through sandy brown locks. This was going to be fine. Even Batsy wouldn’t recognize him here.  
Oh God. The whispering was already starting, cameras flashing, and Bruce immediately found himself tensing up. _Shh, now now Bruce. Have to stay calm for Damian, or he’ll get scared._ He slid into the crowd, forcing himself to remain calm and confident as he spoke to guests, introducing his son and listening to flakey women coo over him as though they weren’t just trying to impress Bruce. How had he ever stood these functions in the first place? He wasn’t sure. His answers were repetitive, and he was bored, so bored, practically praying that Damian would start fussing-  
Until he bumped into a man he had never seen before, accidentally knocking him back. Immediately, an embarrassed and concerned crimson crept to his cheeks as he shifted Damian into his other arm, kneeling down to help the man up. He couldn’t help the curious look over he gave the man, even as he apologized profusely.   
“I am so sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, are you alright?” He questioned, large hands wrapping around the others arm carefully and helping him up.   
“Why yes, I’m fine. You know, I’ve heard of people being swept off their feet by the charming Bruce Wayne, but this wasn’t quite how I imagined.” The man replied with a smile, a soft, vaguely familiar laugh tugging his lips.   
“I’m just glad you’re alright. Is there any way I can make it up to you Mister…?” He trailed off at the realization that he had never seen this man before. How could that be? Bruce Wayne was all too familiar with everyone in high society, it was nothing short of expected of him. “I’m sorry, but are you new here? I’ve never seen you before, and I was almost certain I knew everyone at these functions.”  
“Chevalier. Jackson Chevalier, but you can call me Jackie, Mister Wayne.” The Joker’s voice was amused, running his fingers through his hair once more as he offered the other a reassuring grin, allowing the French accent he’d long since gotten over to reappear. Ahhh, it felt good to use his native tongue once more, even if his little joke would be lost on his Bat. “And yes, I am new here. I just moved to Gotham from Metropolis. Did you know they talk about you even there?” He questioned, raising a brow. “Ahh, but that won’t be necessary.” He assured, before turning his attention to the boy he had claimed as his son. “Ahh, what a darling! Do you mind if I hold him? I have a nephew back home who is almost the same age, and I miss him dreadfully.” He lied smoothly, offering a charming smile even as he brushed off the little bit of dirt from his vest. God, this was going even better than he had expected it too. He’d thought that he would linger around the edges of the room, but here he was, talking to his darling, and silly Bruce had no idea.  
The billionaire paused for a moment, blue eyes roaming the others face before hesitantly handing his son over. As long as he was right here, it should be fine, and this was the first person to seem sincere in their interest in Damian. “Nice to meet you, Jackie. Please, just call me Bruce.” Flashing his own crooked smirk, he idly straightened his bow tie. “No need to be formal, right? Just be careful. Damian hasn’t been around anyone but myself and my family, he might be a little…”  
But the child had already settled into the man’s arms, an excited gurgling falling from his lips as small fingers reached up to pat the Joker’s lips, giggling as the familiar man kissed his fingertips playfully.   
“...nervous.” Bruce finished, staring in dumbfounded awe. He’d never seen Damian take to someone that quickly. Even Dick and Tim had taken time for the boy to warm up to them. And yet, he seemed as comfortable with Jack as he was with his father. “...Wow, I’ve gotta say I’m impressed. He seems to have taken a liking to you.” There was a pause, as Bruce once more let his eyes roam over the mysterious man now cradling his son as though he were the most delicate treasure in existence. He was handsome, that was the first thing Bruce noticed. Sandy brown locks, piercing emerald eyes. He was tall, lanky, but the billionaire could tell he had some muscles under the snug fitting gold vest that seemed to hug his body in all the right ways. Clearing his throat, Bruce forced a flush away from his cheeks, turning his attention back to the other. “I do wish you’d let me apologize somehow. Perhaps I could take you out to dinner? It’s honestly the least I can do.” He purred, turning on the charm he had worked so long to perfect. He couldn’t explain it- the billionaire was simply filled with the overwhelming desire to see this man again. There was something so familiar about him, so calming… and yet so intriguing. “Please?” He implored once more pleased when the other let out a soft laugh.  
“You know, Bruce darling, you had best be careful with that charm. It could get a poor boy like myself in trouble.” The Joker teased, trying to still his heart in his chest. Too much, oh God this was too perfect! “But, I suppose if you would like to take me out, I can aid you in easing your guilty mind. Careful though, or I might just think you’re taking a liking to me.” With a wink, he handed back over the infant, dipping to kiss his head one last time before scribbling out his cellphone number on a piece of paper, handing it over and smiling coyly. “Give me a call, Brucie. I’ll try to fit you into my busy schedule somewhere.”   
With that, the criminal sauntered out of the ballroom, hips swaying enticingly as he disappeared into the night, leaving Bruce staring after him.


	4. Chapter 4

For the rest of the night, even after excusing himself to get Damian ready for bed, Bruce found himself flustered and distracted. He didn't want to seem desperate, and yet his fingers itched to dial the enticing man he had met. How long did societal code say to wait before calling? He forced himself to still, turning his attention back to the child in his arms.  
  
“Sorry for all the noise tonight, Dami…” He murmured, moving to sit in the large rocking chair, cradling the six month old to his now tshirt clad chest as he began to slowly rock, the way his mother had rocked him in that very chair. “Daddy didn’t much like it either, but we have to do those things sometimes. It must have been overwhelming for you, huh, seeing all those new faces?” Reaching down, Bruce gently tickled his son’s cheek, a serene smile tugging at his lips. For all the doubts, all the anxieties, moments like this made it worthwhile. The billionaire’s mind flitted back to Jackie, the smile growing before he could catch it. “Daddy was surprised at you, Damian, you even made a friend. You wouldn’t even let your big brothers hold you without crying for a solid week, I wonder what it is about Mister Jackie you liked so much? Maybe he just charmed you as much as he charmed Daddy?” He teased, standing and moving towards the crib.  
  
The infant gurgled happily as his father spoke, fingers swinging and curling in delight as blue eyes caught Bruce's. A small yawn fell from Damian's lips as he settled into his crib, eyes going heavy. It had been a long day, far more overwhelming than any he had had before, and he was more than a little tuckered out.  
  
Chuckling quietly beneath his breath, the billionaire began to rub careful circles on his son’s stomach, humming to himself. And still his mind flitted back to Jackie. Convention be damned, he wasn't letting this one get away. He'd finish up with Damian, and then he'd call to try to arrange their date.  
  
_Not a date_ , he reminded himself. _Just a way to apologize for running into him, that's all._

\-----

This was easily the Joker’s favorite part of the night. Curled up in his bed, bat signal blanket wrapped around his body like a lovers hold, laptop open beside his head. It had been so easy to install the cameras, so quick, and he found himself questioning why he hadn't thought to put them in far earlier. It didn't matter, all that mattered was now they were, allowing him to watch moments like this. The way his darling cradled Damian to his chest, how gently he touched his face… Something about it made the criminal melt. He let his mind wander for a moment, imagining what it would be like to truly be a family with them. He and Bruce lying snuggled together in Bruce’s bed that really was too big for just one person, Damian sleeping in the Joker’s arms as Bruce’s fingers stroked through their son’s hair, lips pressing gentle kisses to the emerald haired man’s temple… it was certainly a nice dream, even if that’s all it would ever be.  
  
He snapped back to attention as he heard his name, perking up and watching the screen curiously, even as a large grin began to break out across his face. So, he had charmed Daddy, had he? What a pleasant thing to know! The gears in his head began to turn, green eyes lighting up with delight. Oh, this could work. This could certainly work, even if Bruce didn’t exactly know it was him.  
  
“Mmmm… Brucey, Brucey, Brucey. Seems to me you’re proving me right.” He hummed to himself, eyes locked on the screen, memorizing every reaction, every way the others body moved and muscles rippled. God, how he’d love to run his fingers down that chiseled back, feel those arms cradle him close! How long had he been telling his Bat they were meant to be together, that if Batman would just open his eyes, he’d see it too? Bruce was so stubborn that the Joker himself had begun to doubt that he was right. Maybe his darling truly did hate him!  
  
But this…  
  
This changed everything.  
  
The Joker watched as Bruce put Damian to bed and walked out of the room, quickly switching the screen to the one in the billionaire’s bedroom, licking his lips as the other sat cross legged on the large bed and pulled out his phone. Who could he be calling at this time of night? Hadn’t most of the people the billionaire associated with just left his home? And even then, that wouldn’t explain the nervous, flustered look on his Batsy’s face, the way the dark haired man nibbled his lip as he waited for whoever was on the other side to answer.  
  
The Joker’s phone began to vibrate on the nightstand at that moment, eyes widening momentarily. There was no way that that was-  
  
Clearing his throat, the Joker slipped easily into his accent, idly twirling an emerald curl around his finger as he shifted under his Batman blanket, sheets falling around his hips. “Hello, Jackie speaking.” The clown purred into the phone, his eyes locked on the man on the screen.  
  
“Jackie? Ah, hey, it’s Bruce. I know it’s late and you were just here a while ago, but… “ A pause as Bruce shifted on the bed, fingers flicking open the first button on his shirt, hair falling loose in his eyes. “I wanted to set up our dinner before I get roped into other plans this week. If you have time that is! I wouldn’t want to screw up your schedule or anything.” Bruce let out a nervous laugh, stabbing his fingers through his hair as a crimson blush crawled up his cheeks. What the hell was wrong with him? He was _Bruce Wayne, playboy extraordinaire,_ and yet here he was stuttering like some teenager with their first crush! What was it about the handsome frenchman that reduced him to a flustered, anxious mess? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was he had to see him again.  
  
The Joker raised a brow as he watched the other’s reaction on the screen, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. Oh, this was just far too good. He let his voice drop to a husky tone as he shifted the phone closer to his ear. “Mmm, miss me already? You better be careful there, _Mister Wayne_ , or I’m going to start thinking you might like me.” He teased, each word slow and deliberate, coy and playful. “Hmmm… I think I can make time for you though, six o’clock tomorrow evening maybe? You’re welcome to bring Damian, of course. You have another little one too, don’t you?” Humming softly, the Joker bit back the urge to laugh. As though he didn’t know all about Batsy and his kids. He could hardly believe little Tim was already ten, and Dick was off in college. It made him feel far older than he cared to admit. But even then- they weren’t Bruce’s, not really. He could certainly play nice though, so long as they didn’t figure out who he was.  
  
“I do, my adopted son Timothy lives with me as well. If it's truly no trouble to bring them… Tim isn't particularly fond of staying at the babysitters.” Bruce paused, biting down on his lip in a way that had the clown suppressing a moan. “Be careful Jackie, maybe I _do_ like you.” The vigilante purred, his voice the charming tone he’d used so many times before.  
  
The Joker couldn’t help but to roll his eyes. That voice- how many women had Bruce charmed with it? How many would it make melt at his feet? But not him. Oh no, he could easily meet that tone with his own. A throaty laugh escaped his lips, as he wound a tendril of hair around his fingers. “Promises, promises, Brucey. I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Dream of me.” With that, he hung up, watching the flustered look on the billionaire’s face with nothing short of delight, falling back in his bed with a suppressed squeal. Oh God, he had a date with his beloved Batsy! Tugging the blankets up over himself, he allowed his mind to race, finally drifting off to visions of what the night would hold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this has taken so long. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about this or Monster, I'm just working five jobs and am insanely busy.

“No, no, no!” Joker huffed to himself as he rummaged through his closet, tossing outfit after outfit over his shoulder towards the bed, brow furrowed as he scowled at the closet. He’d been trying to decide for almost an hour now what to wear for his date with Bruce, and as of yet, he hadn’t been able to decide. He adored his purple suits, but there was no mistaking that his Batsy would immediately know it was him if he wore it. Finally, with a sigh, he decided. He wasn’t as fond of the black suit, the lack of color bored him, but when all was said and done he had to admit he looked good in it.  
  
Whistling lowly in front of the mirror, he smirked, carefully applying the prosthetics. The suit hugged his lithe frame in all the right places, the black tie offsetting his pale skin perfectly even He stared at his hair in the mirror forlornly, reaching up to gently touch it. Joker had decided to dye it the same sandy brown as the wig he had worn, and already, he was missing his green. He’d made sure to purchase plenty of wash in green to make up for it, but still, he felt the loss.  
  
Oh well. It was all for his Batsy, and if all it took to be near Bruce was a little bit of hair dye and some prosthetics, he certainly wasn’t about to say no. And for just a little while, he’d get to pretend that he really was a part of Bruce’s world, that they could be real.  
  
That he could be real.  
  
The boredom would continue to hum in his head until half of him ached to claw his brain out for eternity, it would never leave. But when he was near Bats, it dulled to a quiet ache at least. The Joker adored those moments the most. He’d never quite understood why Bruce didn’t understand, no matter how many times he had said- for Batman, he’d do anything. Give up crime, anything but leave. After all, it was just a game to get the other man’s attention, one that worked far too well.  
  
Finally he was ready, the smile on his lips only growing as he slipped into shining black shoes, grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.

\------

Bruce wasn’t sure he’d ever been this nervous for a date before. Dressed impeccably in a navy suit, Damien settled in his arms and Tim at his side as he ushered the boy into the car, struggling with the belts of Damien’s car seat. He couldn’t explain it, not really. It was just something about Jack… something intriguing and enticing and yet- there was something dangerous under the surface too. Jack was a mystery, and enigma. New to Bruce’s knowledge, and the man seemed to have intrigued him more than many had in a long time. He just didn’t seem like the other socialites and elites who normally attended Bruce’s functions. Not to mention how quickly Damien had taken to him.  
  
“So Dad, where are we going anyhow?” Tim questioned, fidgeting with the game device tucked into his pocket. “It’s not one of those fancy places where the waiters don’t smile and I gotta be on my best behaviour, is it?” The ten year old questioned, a pout tugging at his lips.  
  
Bruce couldn’t help but chuckle at the action. For as much as Tim was his Robin, his crime fighting partner, he was still so much just a little boy. Reaching out, the billionaire gently ruffled his adopted son’s hair affectionately, laughing as the boy tried to smooth it back into place.  
  
“It is, but it’s that place down on first that you liked last time. If you behave, you can have anything off the dessert menu, ok?” He offered, knowing there was one large desert the child eyed every time they were there. It’d be a sugar overload for him to deal with at home, but it was worth it if it meant Tim was behaving himself. “We’re going to have dinner with a friend of mine, is that alright?”  
  
Tim eyed his adopted father suspiciously before a grin broke across the child’s face. “Oooohhhh, Dad’s got a date~!” He crowed, eyes gleaming mischievously. “Who is it? Another pretty model? That last lady was really pretty, but he wouldn’t have been a very good mom.” He made a face. “She didn’t like me very much, I don’t think.”  
  
Bruce paused, glancing at his son curiously, one brow raised. “And is that what you want me to start looking for, Tim?” He shot back. “Somehow, I’d never gotten the impression you wanted a mom, am I suddenly not enough?” He teased, blue eyes twinkling with affection for the boy. “But no, it's not a pretty model.”  
  
When they arrived at the restaurant, Bruce got Damien unbuckled before cradling him to his chest, offering his free hand to Tim. As much as the boy complained that he was older and didn't have to hold his father's hand, Bruce still always offered it when they were out. He knew as shy and anxious Tim got around the paparazzi that constantly followed them and, sure enough, now was no different. The raven haired boy curled his fingers around Bruce's, burying his face in his father's arm as they entered the restaurant, trying to ignore the flashing lights of cameras.  
  
It was the part of things Bruce hated the most. Even still, he gave the boys hand a protective, soothing little squeeze, leading him inside and looking around the restaurant for his date. Blue eyes lit up as he caught sight of Jack, his breath momentarily catching in his throat. Damn if the Frenchman didn't look amazing. The way the suit hugged onto every curve had Bruce shaking himself inwardly, trying to clear his head. Not the type of thoughts he ought to be having with his sons right there.  
  
“Jack!” He called out, trying to get the man's attention without jostling his sons too much.  
  
Jack looked up slowly at the call of his name, a smile spreading over his lips at the sight of his date, and the little one he'd claimed as his own. Even little Tim had cleaned up well, and Jack had to admit how cute the kid was when he wasn't trying to knock his teeth out. Making his way towards the three, his smile only grew.  
  
“There you are, Brucie, I was worried maybe you were standing me up.” He purred, letting his accent come through once more. “But I didn't think you'd do that.” Glancing down at Tim, his eyes softened. “You must be Timothy. Bruce didn't tell me what a big strong boy you were! I'm Jack, it's nice to meet you.” Offering his hand, he was glad when, after glancing up at Bruce for approval, Tim took his hand and shook it.  
  
“Nice to meet you too, Mister Jack.” The boy greeted politely, even if his eyes held confusion. His father had never been out with another man before, was this still a date?  
  
Immediately, Damien began to coo and squeal in his father's arms, happy noises falling from his lips as his arms reached for Jack. A chuckle fell from Bruce's lips as he handed the boy over. “Seems I've got some competition for your attention.” He chuckled.  
  
“Hi, Dami~” Jack cooed as he lovingly cradled the boy close, stroking through raven locks. “What a handsome boy you are tonight!” Taking his seat, he refused to give the boy back up, holding him tenderly and protectively, emerald eyes shining with adoration. Never had he ever expected to be able to be this close to Bruce, to be so close to being a part of their family. It was beyond wonderful.  
  
Bruce couldn’t help but melt watching the handsome man talking to his son. There was nothing the billionaire cared more for than his children, Jack’s actions heartwarming at least and enchanting at most. His heart gave a steady thump, cheeks flushing slightly as his large fingers ran through dark, slicked back locks, catching the few stray strands that had escaped their hold.  
  
“So tell me a bit about yourself, Jack? I know you’re new to Gotham… but I’m admittedly still a little curious about what brought you to my party. It doesn’t seem like the sort of place you’d enjoy.”  
  
“Normally, it’s not.” Jack agreed, pleased to see Damian’s eyes growing heavy as he rocked the boy. “As I said, I just moved here from Metropolis. Before that, I was in France.” His accent made the word roll of his tongue smoothly, and all he could do was pretend he hadn’t seen the shiver running down Bruce’s spine, and suppress the smirk that threatened to tug at his handsome features. “And if I’m honest- well, I’d heard from my partners- I work at an art gallery downtown.- that you were hosting a party. They wouldn’t shut up, going on and on about you and about the type of parties you threw. They claimed you were a social butterfly, attending all major functions, but that you always seemed guarded.” A wicked grin tugged at his lips as he batted his lashes playfully. “I’ve always been one for the tall, dark and mysterious type….” A small wink. “...So I crashed your party. Wasn’t too hard either- you need to up your security, Wayne.” Jack teased.  
  
“And what did you think?” Bruce shot back good-naturedly. “Did I live up to expectations, Jack? I do hate to disappoint.” He hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. The billionaire couldn’t explain it, there was just something about Jack… he felt so comfortable around him, sliding so easily out of both his playboy persona and his Batman persona to something new and exciting, a part of him even he didn’t recognize.  
  
Tim rolled his eyes at his father’s obvious flirting, even as blue eyes sharply watched the interaction between the two. The child was curious, he’d never seen Bruce so genuinely flustered by someone before, the pink creeping up his neck the same as Tim had seen when Dick was near Barbara. It was intriguing, even as he tipped his head to look at Jack, the man noticing and ruffling his hair with a small smile.  
  
“Don’t worry, darling, you impressed me plenty.” Jack soothed with a soft, musical laugh. “Definitely the tall, dark and mysterious. Though- I feel like I haven’t gotten to see too much of the real you yet. Which I suppose makes sense- but I get the impression the you that’s at those parties isn’t the you that’s real.” He hummed pointedly. “Good thing I have time to unravel you, huh?” Another wink as he shifted Damien slightly, careful not to wake the child before turning his attention to Tim. “So what about you, kiddo? You must be in what, grade five?” He questioned, voice soft and sincere as he gave the child his full attention. It didn’t matter how many times he tried to kill this child as the Joker. In this setting, he truly did care about the boy. After all, it was Bruce’s son.  
  
Tim blinked in surprise. “Grade six… I skipped a year.” He replied hesitantly, glancing up at Bruce for the ok to keep talking, relaxing visibly at the nod he received. “It was mostly just because Dad lets me learn anything I want at home. We have a huge library, and if there is ever a class I wanna take, or a book I want to read, he gets it for me.” He explained, both stunned and excited when he realized the man was listening intently, actually paying attention. None of Bruce’s dates had ever done that for him before.  
  
“Wow, that’s impressive!” Jack praised. “You must be a smart boy then! What is your favorite thing to learn about?” He questioned curiously, adoring the way the child’s face lit up. A small part of him, deep down, nagged at how odd this whole thing was. Before, he wouldn’t have had a problem ignoring this child. Maybe spending so many nights with Damian was softening him up? That had to be it, he was growing more than fond of Bruce’s children.  
  
Tim was thoughtful for a moment, before grinning. “I like space, and cars!” He answered excitedly. “Dad sent me to space camp last year, and we sometimes get old junkers to work on at our house. I like gymnastics a lot too.”  
  
As Bruce watched the two interact, the ache in his chest only grew. Talia herself had never even shown an interest in Tim, always brushing him off as Bruce’s silly little sidekick. Tim’s words from earlier came back to his mind, the boys desire for two parents nagging at him momentarily, but he pushed it aside, content to watch their interaction. When the date was over, he took Jack’s hand with one, and Tim’s with the other, allowing Jack to continue holding Damian as he leaned over, softly murmuring in the other man’s ear, “Come back home with me?”  
  
He almost expected a no, not the gentle squeeze of the hand in his own, and the soft reply of, “Of course.”  
  
When they arrived, he put the boys to bed, kissing Tim’s head and turning on Damian’s baby monitor before returning to the large living room where Jack nervously sat on the couch waiting. He didn’t speak, offering his hand to tug the other up, pressing him against the wall and kissing him deeply. Large hands cradled the frenchman’s head, angling slightly for better contact.  
  
Fingers curled into those dark locks as Jack immediately responded, pressing his lithe body up against the other as breathless moans and mewls fell from his lips. Finally he pulled away, laughing softly.  
  
“Well, Mister Wayne, if that’s how you always kiss, I can certainly see why so many are in love with you!” He teased. “But what did little old me do to deserve that, huh?” Kissing Bruce was… even better than he’d imagined it would be, and he’d had a damn lot of time to imagine. He’d always pictured fireworks, rough and demanding lips against his own. Never the soft, tender caress he’d received. Even with the fire and possessive edge he’d felt to the kiss, it had been more adoring than any he’d ever received.  
  
“No one has ever treated my kids like that…” Bruce answered softly. “You were really really cute with them… and it left me wanting to do that all night.” He pulled him close, eyes dark with desire as he rested his forehead against Jack’s. “I’m sorry if it’s forward of me but… stay?”  
  
And as Jack took the bigger man’s hand, silently promising he would, he was filled with the fleeting thought that, when this was all over, he was going to be the one left broken. It was going to hurt, and he wasn’t even sure he’d regret it.


End file.
